


A Million Worlds Apart

by peterplanet



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterplanet/pseuds/peterplanet
Summary: in which she’s famous and he’s just peter parker, but somehow that ends up being enough





	A Million Worlds Apart

“How am I supposed to be crushing on a boy that doesn’t even know I  _exist_ , MJ?” (Y/N) asks with a sigh so dramatic, so on-brand that it makes MJ laugh in the slowly-deserting hallways of Midtown High after another day at school.

The two girls are different people around each other. They become two different entities, two different concepts of the people that Midtown once knew. (Y/N) becomes more herself, more authentic in the way that she breathes and acts that it makes people stop in their tracks. They turn to the girl, a YouTube sensation with a music career that’s steadily on the rise, and see someone new. They find a girl so happy, so bubbly, that it makes their breathing hitch and their eyes widen at the sight.

And MJ? She becomes happier, kinder, softer in the way that she looks at people. She still won’t go out of her way to talk to new people, but with (Y/N) she seems to be more optimistic. Of course, pointing this out to the girl would only make her scowl and lose all sense of her prior euphoria. You learn that it’s easier to just let MJ feel this way without interrupting her; it turns out to be best for everyone involved.

“Parker definitely knows that you exist, (Y/N),” MJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes. It almost distracts from the slight smile on her face— _almost._ “If you knew how much he talked about you, it’d make you sick.”

(Y/N) laughs in her disbelieving way, a shake of her head is the sign that MJ has come to recognize. It’s easier to let her live in this self-doubt about Peter Parker and his love for her—by this, MJ means his  _undying adoration_  for her—than it is to convince (Y/N) that they’re two star-crossed lovers. It’s easier to let someone believe their own truth than to convince them of the reality at hand.

“Whatever you say, MJ,” she sighs with another shake of her head. Her smile is faltering and her façade, her happy mask that she was putting on for a moment, falters ever-so-slightly. “I’m still convinced that he has no idea of who I am besides  _‘that girl on YouTube.’_ ”

She raises her hands to make air-quotes around the words with a dismal look on her face. She seems so sad, so stressed by the possibility of this boy not knowing that she exists when he consumes her. (Y/N) has been exposed to boys using her for fame, to promote their Instagram accounts, or just to know what it feels like to be in one of her videos. Her heart is so big that it still breaks every time she trusts someone that intimately only to have it thrown back in her face. And while she knows that Peter Parker is not one of those boys, that he’s never going to hurt her like that, it still makes her queasy to think about him only wanting to use her for her fame.

And as though he knew that the two girls were talking about him, the boy himself comes up the hallway waving frantically in that adorable way of his. His smile is so wide, so bright, that (Y/N) swears he could power the entire city of New York for a month just off of how electrifying it is. She’s rooted to her spot, her feet unable to move as she grins back at him and manages a shy wave in response.

“Oh, would you look at the time?” MJ says as she looks at her wrist—she’s never had a watch, but that slips past (Y/N)’s mind—with a soft noise of clearing of her throat. “I’m late for detention.”

“You’ve never had detention, MJ,” (Y/N) says as she breaks her gaze away from the sun himself—her sun, anyway—to give her best friend a skeptical look. “You can just tell me that you want to go sketch people in crisis.”

“One day, (Y/N), I will really have detention and you’ll be left feeling stupid,” MJ chirps back with a roll of her eyes. And with the adjustment of her backpack straps, she turns and walks away without giving (Y/N) any time to reply.

And Peter is there, suddenly, to fill the space that MJ once occupied. His smile is still bright, his eyes trailing after MJ for a moment as his gaze turns concerned. “Everything okay with her?” He asks with that concerned tone in his voice, so soft that it nearly breaks (Y/N)’s heart. “She seemed to walk away pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, yeah!” She manages in a voice that’s almost a squeak.

 _Get your shit together!_ She chides herself with a groan that she internalizes. This boy defines her life, defines her happiness so easily that she’s about to make a fool of herself in front of him just because he smiled. Every day she finds herself becoming more and more pathetic.

“She just went to sketch some people in crisis, y’know, typical MJ things,” she offers after she clears her throat in hopes of getting her voice to come back to its normal register.

There’s a silence that settles over the pair and it’s so thick that you could cut it with a knife. She wants to break it so badly, feels her cheeks heating up under Peter’s warm brown stare that she could get lost in for hours, that she has lost herself in before. Her own (e/c) gaze is searching the floor desperately as she tries to figure out something to say because she can’t bear the silence, can’t stand it for another moment because she wants nothing more than to hear Peter’s voice again.

“I wanted to ask if you—” Peter tries at the same time that she manages to begin her own sentence, “Did do you hear about—”

They laugh softly under their respective breaths and she passes him a shy gaze. His own warm one is sparkling with joy that she can hardly stand having put there, can barely manage the idea of having been the cause of without getting a little bit light-headed.

“You first,” Peter offers with the gesture of his hands to let her proceed. It’s so chivalrous in the dumbest, the simplest, of ways that it makes her heart flutter.

“No, no,” (Y/N) assures, “I was just trying to fill the silence and was about to say something super stupid. You probably saved me from dying of my own embarrassment.”

Now her cheeks are flushing, and it makes her want to hit herself. It makes her want to curl up and die because this one boy controls her so badly, has such weight on her moods that it’s almost a little bit insane.

“I don’t think that anything you say could be dumb, (Y/N),” Peter offers with a frown so soft, so tender that it almost makes her kiss him.

Luckily, she has  _some_ form of self-control.

“I was just going to ask i-if you heard about the latest Spider-Man sighting,” and now her cheeks are  _really_ flushing because she’s talking to her crush about a superhero and stuttering through it. It makes her nauseous, if only slightly, and makes her want to die more than she ever has before.

“I did!” Peter agrees almost a little too-quickly and in a tone that’s almost too-high. If (Y/N) didn’t know Peter Parker like the back of her hand, she’d say that he sounded guilty of something. “W-Wasn’t he helping that cat out of a tree or something? Your last YouTube video was on it, wasn’t it?”

And now his eyes are so wide, so bottomless that she’s really running the risk of falling into them. She’d drown in them if she wasn’t careful, if she wasn’t constantly yelling at herself about playing it cool around Peter.

“Yeah, yeah,” she hurries once more in the nervous tick that she hates. “I told you it was stupid, I just…I didn’t want to be in silence with you, I guess. What were you going to say?”

She’s desperate to change the conversation and happy that he’s taken the bait when he draws in a breath. It’s the way that he always signals that he has something to say, something that he’s mulling over in his head before he’s allowing it to come to fruition.

“I was, well, I was going to ask if you were busy at all tonight?” His cheeks are flushing in a way that it makes her think that this isn’t going to be a friendly hang out.

He’s not about to ask her if she’s willing to study for the upcoming English test with him, or practice Spanish conjugations. She knows Peter like the back of her hand and this look that he’s giving her, all wide-eyed and sporting a bashful smile, is the same one that he gave to Liz Allen before he asked her to Homecoming. He only looks like this when he wants something so badly that it makes his bones ache to think he won’t be able to have it. If Peter Parker is anything, it’s definitely self-deprecating. His self-doubt is one of his biggest weaknesses, and (Y/N) knows this because she knows him. It’s a little bit insane how much she’s studied him over the past few years of being in his classes, of being in the same school as him.

So, instead of being honest with him and telling him that she was planning on filming a video so that it could be up by tomorrow (if she’s one thing, it’s consistent and perfect with her uploading schedule; it’s something that she prides herself on), she shakes her head and passes him a smile so tender that it’s barely there. “I’m not, Peter. Why?”

And his responding smile is so bright, so eager and excited that it almost makes her lose her breath. His teeth are on display and he’s beaming, practically  _glowing_ with how beautiful he looks in this lighting with this much confidence erupting from him. “I-I wanted to know if you wanted to come over? Like, May isn’t going to be around a-and I wanted to cook dinner for you, if that’s okay? Maybe, like, a date?”

His cheeks are scarlet now and she knows that hers aren’t any lighter. They’re probably darker, if she’s being honest with herself, and she knows that she looks a sight with the smile that she’s sporting. But she doesn’t think that Peter’s ever looked any softer, any bit more hopeful as his eyes search hers for any sign of an answer.

“I’d love that, Peter. I think I’d love that more than anything.”

* * *

She knocks on his apartment door three times with only slight hesitation settling over her features. She’s so gentle as she does, so nervous that it makes her heart stutter a bit in her chest.

(Y/N) is wearing her favorite floral dress, black-fabric with different colored flowers on it, over tights. She has a light-blue jacket over her shoulders to keep her safe from the chill that can come with early spring, her red converse on to contrast the dark look of her dress and tights. Her makeup is light, casual, because she didn’t know how fancy this meal would be. And maybe it was all pointless, maybe Peter doesn’t know anything about makeup or care too much about what she looks like, but she wanted to try for him. It makes her a little bit dizzy to think about just how much she wanted to try for him.

Peter opens the door to reveal his beaming features, a smudge of what appears to be cake batter on his cheek. He’s wearing his blue Midtown sweater over some jeans, no shoes on his feet but his socks still on. He looks boyish, charming, and so beautiful that it makes her breath hitch for just a moment.

“You’re early!” Peter offers as he gestures for her to step into his apartment. He doesn’t sound upset or angry; rather, his beaming smile is still there, but he seems happy to see her, even if she is ten minutes early to their date.

“Sorry, I always leave my house a bit early. I don’t know, my anxiety sometimes gets the best of me,” and it’s her time to turn bashful before Peter, one of many times that will follow her through the evening.

“No, no! Don’t apologize,” Peter rushes out with his gaze so wide, so innocently shocked that it makes her want to eat her words, “I don’t mind at all. It’s nice; it gives us more time to be together.”

And now she’s smiling, grinning like he had only moments before. She’s so happy around him, he brings out her smile so naturally that it’s almost dangerous. It’s crazy, stifling how eager and bubbly he makes her in a way that’s similar to how she is around MJ. This realization only makes her happier, only makes her more joyed to know that her body instinctively trusts Peter with her true laugh and true smile. But then again, Peter Parker is the type of boy that she’d do anything for; maybe it’s only natural that she feel this comfortable around him.

“You look really nice,” he offers with such a bashful smile, such a tender softening to his brown eyes that it makes her heart stutter. “That’s my favorite dress of yours—is that weird? Oh, God, that’s probably weird. It’s not like I studied your outfits or memorized your wardrobe, I just…I’m going to stop talking, that’s a good plan.”

(Y/N) is laughing now as she shakes her head, her (h/c) locks flying around her face with the movement. Her smile is so wide, so natural as she looks back up at him that her face feels a little bit sore from the stretch. She’s so  _happy_ around him, God, it’s so easy to be happy around him that it makes her a little bit light-headed. Peter Parker, she realizes, is the type of boy that she could see herself falling in love with.

None of the other boys that have taken her out on dates ever complimented her like this. They instantly asked her to film their date, promote them, or only talked about themselves. To have a boy this nervous, this kind around her, is a little bit of foreign territory with the way that it makes her heart swell. It’s shocking, almost, for (Y/N) to realize this; however, she finds that she’s relieved with the reality of it.

“It’s not creepy, Peter,” she assures with that same smile still on her features, that same dazzling look in her eyes that she thinks makes her look crazy, but Peter thinks makes her look beautiful, “thank you. You look really nice yourself.”

There’s a silence for a moment as they both drink each other in. She studies the flush in his cheeks, tries to memorize the way that his eyes soften under the weight of her compliment. She absorbs him in this moment, memorizing the way that he looks to her because it’s a sight that she never wants to forget.

“So, what’s for dinner?” And it’s with this question that Peter has her hand in his, dragging her towards the kitchen (but is it  _really_ dragging someone if they’re skipping along behind you?) with a smile that could only be described as  _dazzling_  settled over his features.

* * *

The pair have just finished up their dinner and desert (which was cake, much like she had suspected based off of the cake batter that had been on his cheek when he greeted her) when the conversation turns personal. They’re seated in adjacent chairs, (Y/N) has turned towards him, and her legs are in his lap. Peter’s thumb strokes her calf absent-mindedly and his smile is lazy, blissful as he takes in the situation. She doesn’t think that she looks any less content.

“Y’know, when I asked you out today, I was worried that you’d say no,” Peter admits with his smile turning timid.

“And why’s that?” She asks, her brow furrowing and her once-blissful smile turning into a slight frown.

What she  _really_ wants to ask is why he doubts himself so much. She can’t fathom how a boy like Peter Parker—soft, good,  _wonderful_  Peter Parker—has so much doubt when it comes to himself. If she could get inside of his beautiful head and figure out this secret, she’d spend every day of her life reworking those ideas in his brain. (Y/N) would give anything if it meant that he would see himself in the same light that she sees him.

“Because, well, it’s stupid,” Peter prefaces with a soft sigh. “I mean, it’s not because you’re a YouTuber or anything. Yeah, that’s cool, and I  _love_ your videos, but…it’s also because you’re so  _natural._  You just…you exude happiness and you, like, radiate this peacefulness. You’re in an entirely different dimension than I am, I guess? Does that make any sense?”

He pauses for a moment and she finds herself trying to make sense of her thoughts. There’s nothing that she could say to make him understand how similar she felt, just flipping the roles.

“I get it,” (Y/N) agrees in a soft voice. “I felt the same towards you, honestly. You’re so nice, so kind, and everyone takes a shit on you for no reason. I just…It always felt like we were a million worlds apart, like you were so far ahead of me and so out of my league.”

She’s biting back a smile at the way that his cheeks are flushing. His thumb stops stroking her calf for a moment as his expression turns dumbfounded in the cutest way possible; he looks so soft and innocent that she wants nothing more than to lean across the space that separates them and kiss him.

Peter Parker is always full of surprises, she realizes. He does what she had been thinking of in the first place, leaning so close to her that she can feel his breath on his lips as he murmurs, “I guess if we had both realized how whipped we were for the other, we could have saved a lot of time, huh?”

It makes her laugh, how easily he states it, and Peter’s responding smile melts against her lips as he kisses her for the first time. Her heart explodes in her chest, dissolving into a million tiny pieces as she loops one of her arms around his neck to keep him close. The kiss is soft, tender, and a little bit awkward with how he has to lean towards her to close the distance between the chairs. She can’t move any closer to him with how her legs are placed over his legs, but it still feels perfect to her.Maybe MJ has been right all along: maybe he’s always felt the same towards her and always wanted this type of awkward perfection. 

It makes her a little bit dizzy to think about how he can make even awkward perfect; but, it’s Peter Parker that she’s thinking about. Anything and everything that he does is perfect. 


End file.
